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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657470">Potty Training</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ourlittlevampire/pseuds/Ourlittlevampire'>Ourlittlevampire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Palaye Royale (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidents, Diapers, Infantilism, M/M, Omorashi, Sibling Incest, Wetting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:09:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,094</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ourlittlevampire/pseuds/Ourlittlevampire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Remington tries potty training.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emerson Barrett/Remington Leith/Sebastian Danzig</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Potty Training</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you for 500 hits :3<br/>All characters are 18+</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sebastian?" Remington asked as he watched Sebastian tie off the diaper bag. He was laying on his back, his snap crotch overalls wide open, and his legs spread open. They were halfway through a diaper change.<br/>
"Hmm?" Sebastian responded, pulling a couple of baby wipes out a plastic container. He mentally made a note to get more, as they were almost out. It probably wouldn't hurt to get a new bottle of baby powder as well.<br/>
"I think I'm ready to start potty training." That got Sebastian's full attention and he turned to look at him.<br/>
"Are you sure? That's a lot of responsibility."<br/>
"I know. I want to be a big boy. I'm tired of Emerson calling me a piss baby." Sebastian held back a chuckle at the nickname. "I'm not a piss baby!" Remington whined with a frown.<br/>
"Okay, okay. It's not funny." He said, though the smile still gracing his face gave away the fact he still found it entertaining. He willed it off his face before continuing more seriously. "Why don't you go pick out a pair of underwear?"<br/>
"Okay!" The singer responded happily. He bounced off the bed and opened the bottom drawer of the dresser. This was the part he was most excited about. When they had first started discussing potty training Sebastian had taken him out to pick out some new panties to wear. Now, all of those options were presented in front of him as they lay in his drawer.<br/>
It didn't take him long to decide. One pair of lacy, pink panties had caught his attention immediately, mostly because of the pretty bow. He picked them up and held them up to show his brother.<br/>
"Oh, those are cute. Come here so I can help you put them on." Sebastian patted the light blue changing pad laid out on the bed.<br/>
He waited for him to crawl back on the bed and lie down on his back. He picked up the top part of the shortalls, moving it out of the way before he started putting the underwear on. He had Remington put his feet through the holes before pulling them up his skinny legs. He adjusted his brother's penis in the sheer fabric, making sure it was comfy and fully covered. Next, he snapped the buttons on the overalls shut.<br/>
That done, he told the younger man,<br/>
"Remember to tell me or Emerson when you need to go to the bathroom and we'll help you, okay?"<br/>
"Okay." Remington responded, though he was only half-listening. He could hear his favourite cartoon playing in the living room and he didn't want to miss it.<br/>
"Okay, go play." He said. The little ran off happily. He had serious doubts that the pair of panties wouldn't get at least a little wet, especially with Remington being fresh out of a diaper. He always leaked so much right after spending time padded.</p><p>"Hey, Emerson, look!" Remington said as he skipped into the living room. Emerson was sitting on the couch, sketching out a new drawing. He looked up, one finger twirled in his hair.<br/>
"Am I getting flashed?" He questioned as he watched his brother start to open the buttons on his pants.<br/>
"No! I'm starting potty training." He pulled up his bottoms and showed off his pretty panties. There was already a small patch of wetness from where he had leaked.<br/>
"You're growing up so fast." Emerson proudly. Remington began doing the buttons on his lower half back up, struggling just a little bit. "Here's your pacifier." He said, handing the little boy the soother off the table. The dichotomy of the two statements was lost on Remington.<br/>
"Oh, thank you." He popped his pacifier into his mouth before plopping down on his playmat. He was a little disappointed when he didn't hear the familiar crinkle of his diaper, but was quickly distracted as his show came back from commercial. He absentmindedly rolled a small, red car back and forth on his animal print playmat while he stared up at the TV. The bright colours and cheerful music always seemed to hypnotize him. </p><p>Morning slowly grew into afternoon. The sun lounged across the living room floor, as did Remington. His favourite Sunday morning cartoons were no longer playing, so he was focusing on his toys. He was trying to fit one of his large action figures into his little car. He was starting to feel hungry. Luckily, his older brother had already fixed some food.<br/>
"Lunch!" Sebastian shouted from the kitchen. Remington sat down his toys and hopped up from his place on the floor. Emerson also rose from the couch, his sketchbook left on the table. They headed to the kitchen. Remington took a seat next to his youngest brother at the table.<br/>
"For the little boy." Sebastian said as he put a plate and Capri Sun down in front of Remington. On the plate was a sandwich that was cut into little triangles, just like he liked it. Next to it was a pile of potato chips.<br/>
"For the big boy." He said as he gave Emerson a plate. His sandwich was not cut into small triangles. Sebastian sat down at the head of the table with his own plate. </p><p>Remington quickly ate through his finger food. The sandwich was really good, something he told the man who had made it. His Capri Sun went disappointingly quick, like they always did, leaving him thirsty as he finished his salty chips. He picked up his plate and scooted out of his chair.<br/>
"Good boy, Remi!" Sebastian praised, looking at the nice, clean plate being presented to him. He ruffled Remington's hair, making the little boy giggle. "Now, go find something to play with." He turned around to start doing dishes.<br/>
"Can I have more juice first?" He asked.<br/>
"Still thirsty, huh?" He asked rhetorically.  Sebastian opened the fridge and pulled out another juice pouch. He put the straw in for his brother, even though he was perfectly capable of doing so himself. "Here you go." He handed him the juice pouch.<br/>
"Thank you!" The singer responded politely. The older man turned back towards the sink, before the thought that he should check if Remington needed the bathroom occurred to him. "Hey, Remi…" He looked up, trailing off as he realized he was alone in the kitchen, the little boy having already headed off to play. Oh, well. He didn't press the issue farther. He knew his brother was very responsible and would surely seek him or Emerson out if he found himself needing the toilet.</p><p>Remington walked into his nursery, depositing his already empty Capri Sun pouch into the bin. Next, he went over to his bookshelf. He reached up to the top shelf and retrieved his finger paints and some paper. He knew he wasn't supposed to be playing with them again. Apparently only Emerson was allowed to draw on the walls , which he found totally unfair. He wanted to prove to his brothers he could be a good boy and wouldn't make a mess. Besides, they should have found a better hiding place than a shelf perfectly within his reach if they didn't want him in them.<br/>
He plopped down into his comfy reading chair and pulled up the matching ottoman. He spread out the pieces of paper and paint pots on top of it.<br/>
He had paints in all the primary colours: red, blue, yellow, plus black and brown. All except the black was lightly used, as that had been the main colour in his last attempt to imitate his brother. He decided to go for the red first this time. He unscrewed the tub and dipped his pointer finger in it before carefully setting it aside. He put his finger to the blank sheet of paper and started drawing before he had in his mind what he wanted to draw. His hand drifted across the page, forming something that resembled a random curly shape. Realizing it looked like a curl he thought of what he could draw: Mishka, their adorable and very curly puppy. </p><p>Sebastian put the last Ziploc bag of chicken into the fridge to marinate. He had decided to get a headstart on dinner after he had finished the dishes from lunch. Now, with both of those things done, he decided to check on Remington.<br/>
He passed through the living room. Emerson was on the couch, steadily working on his latest piece of art in silence. He didn't so much as glance up at him, being so lost in his own little world. Beyond him, Remington's play area was empty, his toys left abandoned on his colourful mat. He must be in his nursery.<br/>
Sebastian continued on to the small room on the first floor designated to hold the singer's little stuff. When he was just steps away from the door a frantic motion could be heard inside. He hurried his pace and arrived at the doorway. He saw what he expected; Remington was getting into trouble.<br/>
The little boy had tried his hardest to hide all the evidence of his disobedience, and he managed to shove his drawings, but e was caught red handed, literally, holding the last paint pot.<br/>
"Remington, look at this mess!" Sebastian scolded, coming further into the room. Not only was he covered in paint, so was his white ottoman and reading chair.<br/>
"I was trying to be careful… then I dropped some." Remington responded quietly, looking down at his feet in shame.<br/>
"You shouldn't have had the paint out in the first place." The older man retorted. He didn't much believe he had simply 'dropped' some paint, mostly because of the clear handprints on the pieces of furniture. Worse, he wasn't sure how he was going to clean it. It had been hard enough to get off the walls, but now it was on fabric and the jars had a clear warning that it stained fabric.<br/>
"Go to the corner and stay there. You're in a lot of trouble." He said, jabbing a finger towards the empty corner next to him.<br/>
Remington silently shuffled his feet until he was facing the blank corner. He kept his head hung, examining the boring patch of carpet beneath him. He hated being in trouble. It always made him want to break out in tears. Worse yet, he was just starting to feel a pressure in his bladder.<br/>
"Sebastian?" He said.<br/>
"What?" He asked, tone strained.<br/>
"I gotta go potty." He informed quietly.<br/>
"You're not getting out of this. No, you're going to stay in that corner until I tell you you can leave." Remington bit his lip and returned his eyes forward. He knew talking back would just earn him more time in the corner. He resigned to looking down at the carpet beneath him.<br/>
He heard the guitar player stand there for a few seconds longer before he sighed and walked out of the room. Remington was left alone with only the distant sound of his brothers talking in the living room. His shoulders fell a little farther. It was one thing for Sebastian to know he was a bad boy, but now he was telling Emerson. His youngest brother wasn't the type to yell and dole out punishments, he was silently disappointed and that was even worse. Plus, the discomfort in his bladder was getting worse.<br/>
Several minutes had passed and Remington could no longer hear either of his brothers talking. He glanced over his shoulder towards the door and couldn't see them, either. He was unconsciously doing the potty dance. He really needed to go. He bit the bullet and spoke up.<br/>
"Sebastian?" He called. He waited a few seconds. No response. He waited a few more seconds before he called out Emerson's name, to similar results. He shoved his hand between his legs. They were probably just ignoring him. He faced back into the corner, stilling his body.<br/>
'i just have to be good for a little longer.' He assured himself.<br/>
That only gave him comfort for so long. If he really needed to go ten minutes ago, he REALLY needed to go now. He couldn't keep still and his hand was shoved between his legs as hard as he could.<br/>
"Sebastian! Emerson!" He called out, desperation obvious in his voice. He let out a little whine when they still didn't respond. What was he supposed to do when they thought he was playing around and he wasn't? "I really gotta go, I'm not joking." He informed. He waited an agonizing few seconds, but didn't get any response. A gush of warm piss soaked the silky fabric of his panties. Panic started taking him over as he realized he wasn't going to make it another few minutes. "Please stop ignoring me!" He begged, voice cracking. He hadn't realized he was talking to an empty house. Another burst of piss soaked his underwear.<br/>
Then the floodgates opened and he was full-on wetting himself. Tears blurred his vision as he felt the warmth spread across his crotch and a stream start down his right leg. A quiet hissing sound was drowned out by his sobs. It was a relief, but he was in too much of an emotional turmoil to enjoy it. After what seemed like an eternity to him his bladder was empty. A dark patch had formed in the carpet underneath him and his dark bottoms were completely soaked.<br/>
'Great, another thing for them to get mad at me for.' He thought to himself pessimistically as he attempted to wipe away his tears with a sleeved hand. </p><p>"...if that doesn't work, I read online that vinegar and dish soap..." Sebastian chattered on as the two brothers walked up the sidewalk. The chorus of mid-afternoon bugs in the bushes went silent as Emerson climbed onto the porch. The bag around the guitarist's wrist containing a bottle of upholstery cleaner loudly glanced off the post as the drummer entered the house. He had only taken a couple steps inside when he was nearly bulled over by Remington wrapping his arms around him and shoving his face into his chest.<br/>
"Oh! Hi." He greeted, surprised. In the silence following his statement, he realized the singer was crying. "What's wrong?" He asked, worried. An equally worried Sebastian crowded in, closing the door behind him.<br/>
"Remi, baby, tell us what's wrong." He implored. Through his hiccupping cries he managed to get out what had happened.<br/>
"I-i had an accident. I'm s-sorry." He apologized.<br/>
"It's not your fault. We shouldn't have left you alone." Emerson said, pressing his brother's head into his chest and holding him tightly. Over his equally-sized brother he stared daggers at Sebastian. He had told him it was a bad idea to leave Remington home alone while they got the upholstery cleaner, but he had been convinced since the trip was so short and he needed help choosing the correct cleaner. Now their little boy was all shaken up. Sebastian avoided eye contact as he fiddled with the bag on his wrist.<br/>
"I feel all yucky." Remington admitted, breaking the tension. The presence of his siblings seemed to have soothed him quiet a bit, but his eyes were still rimmed with tears.<br/>
"Then let's get you into the bath." Emerson said. The older man stood so they could start making their way towards the bathroom.<br/>
"Can I have my duckies?" He said, lacing his fingers with his brother's to maintain some sort of contact with him.<br/>
"Of course. They'll be unhappy if they find out you took a bath without them." This got a little peek-a-boo smile out the little boy. Eager to get a true smile out of him, he said , "They'll say, 'I'm fucking pissed!'." In a silly voice. Remington giggled, bringing the red-stained hand that wasn't holding Emerson's up to his smiling mouth.<br/>
"My duckies are potty mouths!" He laughed. The clouds of his dark mood were lifting, to the drummer's relief.<br/>
In the bathroom now, Remington went over to the cabinet as Emerson prepared the tub to be filled with water. First, he got out his bubbles. He sat them on the edge of the sink for the younger man. He liked it when he made his bath for him because he always put too much bubbles and it was like a bubble party. He reached back in the cabinet and pulled out the little tub of bath toys. His plain yellow rubber ducks were mixed up with dark green frogs. He overturned the tub over the water, pouring all his toys into the bath which was already pilling up bubbles.<br/>
"Let me get you undressed." Emerson said and Remington was more than happy to let him. His drenched clothes were now cold and very uncomfortable.<br/>
He grimaced as his drenched panties were pulled down his legs. They weren't so pretty now that they were covered in his piss. At least he felt much better now that they were off. The pair was added to the pile of clothes he had been wearing.<br/>
"I'm going to put these in the washer." Emerson informed, heading out of the room with the dirty laundry.<br/>
Remington stepped into the tub, sinking down into the mass of bubbles. He couldn't even find his toys until he felt one bump up against his leg. He picked it up and, to his surprise, it was his favourite! He cheerfully sat it on the edge of the tub as he searched through the bubbles for the rest.<br/>
He had amassed a tiny army on the edge of the tub by time he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He quickly grabbed one of the frogs and put it on top of his head to give the drummer a silly surprise. He tried to keep a straight face as he waited for him, but he burst out in a laugh right as he came back in. His laughing sent the frog back into the water before Emerson had the opportunity to see it.<br/>
"Em! I had a frog on my head! But then I started laughing and it fell off before you saw it. Isn't that funny?" He babbled.<br/>
"Oh, that's very funny." He agreed. Remington looked at what he was holding. It was a clean set of pajamas and on top of those was… a diaper. He smiled. He had secretly been wanting to go back to wearing diapers. He wasn't ready to be a big boy just yet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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